Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1887-05-04

Bend all your thought, all your energies
upon your art-then all will be we'll will
you. 80 one step out Of your course ant
all your future is lost to you-a future, too
like Michael Angelo's. Such as you are al
ways in danger. While live will Away
try to keep you in safety; but think onl,
of your art. That will ever be your sures
safeguard"
The two worked on together for the mex
four years in perfect happiness and content
Bernardino's fame spread antil it eclipset
that OF Tornello's, whose pride and love fol
his protege increased with his days. Tht
young artist was petted and courted upor
every band. but nothing but his beloved ar
seemed to have power to move him. The
most cunning and artful devices Of the
most beautiful and charming women failes
to wean him from his chisels. His work
shop was more to him than the finest sailor
in Italy, and in his heart there was only
love fer T0rnello, and the art which they
were both seeking to glorify.
One right, in a dream, woman came 4
Bernardino-a woman of the rarest beauty
"Go once more" she said, "to the bleak
northern quarries whence you came here
On the highest of all the hills is a block Of
stone, which hangs in cleft in the rocks
In it my body is imprisoned. l am the
Queen of the Lilies-the spirit presiding
over the flowers which you most love. Lib
crate me. Bring the block of stone here in
the City of Lilies-here in the heart Of my
once imperial kingdom. Set me free, and
will reward you. Whatever you will
shall be yours"
Believing in his dream, he went back
northward to the detested quarries, whence
/ h1H HnI ID h. T..
of the highest hill was deep, narrow cleft
which looked as if it had been chopped into
the hard stone by blow from some great
axe In this cleft, exactly as he had dream
ed, hung block of stone. The workmer
removed it for Bernardino, and he had il
sent to Florence and taken to his studio.
Not until then did he tell Tornello his
dream. The old artist smiled.
| eff it has any signigcance at ALL" be
said, "ths dream means that you are to
shape this block of marble into the sem
blancs Of beautiful woman, who is to be
SO immortalised as the Queen of the Lilies.
l would not, though, if 1 were you, SET
much store by the dream; they are OF
strange fabric. Sometimes one has good
cause for thinking that they have Value
| At other times we have still better reasons
for believing otherwise. One never can
| settle upon the things of so invisible king.
DOM"
Bernardino made the marble block into a
half nude statue without model or any.
thing else to guide him but his recolleetlens
of the woman of his dream. The face was
spiritually fine and subtle, but the form,
though dainty in its extremities, was volup-
tuOusly round otherwise. There was some
thing, Though SO pule, sweet and modest,
about it that it suggested the lilies to those
who saw it before they were acquainted
with the young artists intention.
All Florence united in pronouncing it a
great creation, and all the country rang
with Bernardino's praises. None greeted
him with warmer applause than Tornello,
his master.
''Now. DEAR" he said, 81 am content.
Every possible temptation has been thrust
upon you, and you have resisted them all.
Even praise has not spoiled you. You are
safe-safe from the harm of women-safe
from everything which could do you hurt.
No man who lives can call you second to
him. You are foremost in art as we'll as
foremost in virtue"
At that cry moment in a Roman wine
room, through whose open windows could
be seen the yellow Tiber, another great ar
tist was dining. He had just come down
from Florence, where he had been, with
many others, to sse Bernardino's statue of
the lily queen. As he was finishing his
dinner his wine was brought him by a
young woman, at sight of whom the artist
sprang to his feet with loud cry of sur
prise.
"Who are you?' he exclaimed, when he
could get his breath.
"What ails yeu?" cried the woman: care
you ill? You look at me as if you thought
l had the plague"
"Who are you?" he repeated.
"Only woman" she answered, seowl-
ing and Struggling her shoulders. "But
what of that. There are plenty who are
worse than l."
The artist sighed.
''You are exactly like Bernardino's
statue. Were you his model? You and
his lily queen could not be more alike, in
face and figure, were you both cut from the
same block"
The woman moved swiftly away, with a
strange light in her eyes. When the artist
next went to that wine-reem she was gone.
In the next three months, all that hu-
manity can devise for the honoring of a
favored one was done for Bernardino. And
he bore it all with the modesty and sim
plicity which had marked his first utter
ance to Tornello. One night, at an artists
frelic in the young mans studio, they pro-
posed crowning him with laurel wreath.
"No" said Tornelle, '1et it be q lily
wreath instead"
"How can wee' cried yellow-haired
Saxon, q painter of exquisite portraits.
"This is not the lily season."
SIT is always the lily season here" an
swered Tornello, bringing out the wreath of
lilies which was the first of Bernardine's s
work that he ever saw. "You can crown
him with lilies-yeu can crown him with
this. 1t is the word of his own hands, and
it is SO light and perfect that it will well
become the brow of its creator"
& The Saxon and the others caught up the
wreath. but Bernardino took it from their
hands and placed it at the feet of bis won.
derful statue.
"Lst it lie there, rather" he said, with
the merry laugh of ccnteuted boy "Be.
hold! My very earliest and my very latest
work in Florence!'
Tornello shuddered.
"What is it?'' asked Bernardino, stepping
forward and taking the master by the
hands.
II scarcely know. There was chill in
my marrsw when you spoke, theH-as if
you were moved by the spirit Of prophecy
The next morning. when Bernardino en-
tered the studio, the marble woman, the
now famous Queen of the Lilies, seemed te
smile down upon him from her pedestal. A
second glance disclosed to him that her
hair, eyes and lips, all of which had been
celerless marble the night before, were now
full of the color of life. He touched heI
hand and her fingers, all warm and trem.
bling, closed over his. Thrilled and stirred,
in way that was new and bewildering ia
him, he raised her beautiful hand to his
lips. Then the woman stepped down from
the pedestal and knslt at his feet. The
wreath Of lilies caught in her drapery, and,
falling as she knelt, was broken in two
Her fingers were still clasped about his
hand, and pulling him forward until his
face was on level with hers, she raised hel
lips and kissed him.
81 am the lily queen," she said. "She
who came to you in dream, imploring you
to release her from the marble block whicE
held her imprisoned in the northern noun
tains You have made mo a wamap nnce